Spongebob's Concert Carnage!
by SquilliamShakespeare
Summary: Spongebob gets pissed off at the world and decides to take it out on an upcoming music festival.
1. Chapter 1

*Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, BLLLAAAAAAARRRRRMMMMMMMMMM*

In a half-woken stupor, Spongebob reached across his bed and turned off his foghorn alarm clock. He glanced at the time as he sat up and stretched.

"Tartar sauce, only two hours of sleep last night" Spongebob thought to himself. He had been very busy preparing the night before, getting together supplies that had taken months of accumulation, so he could be organized for tomorrow's big event. Although he felt groggy and weak, Spongebob managed to let out his signature phrase.

"I'M READY!" he squealed as he jumped out of his bed. He hurried down into the kitchen where he fixed himself a bowl of his favorite kelp cereal. As he tucked into his breakfast, he turned on the TV and watched the news.

"The Bikini Bottom is proud to announce that it's third annual Sea-Slam Music Festival will be performing tomorrow at the Krusty Towers!" cried the announcer fish that had a puppet mouth. Thousands of fish from all over are flocking towards our little town to attend this huge event!

Spongebob was enthralled, he had been preparing for this event for months, and everything was going according to plan. The footage he saw of crowds of crowds of fish lining up for the event made him even more excited, this was perhaps one of the luckiest moments of his life. "I can't wait!" Spongebob exclaimed with glee. "Now, time to grab my things". He rushed upstairs into his bedroom.

From the first floor of his pineapple home, a symphony of very loud thuds could be heard as Spongebob lugged a plethora of suitcases one-by-one down the stairs into his living room. Each suitcase, as a matter of fact, weighed at least seventy pounds each. Practically all of them were brimming with the tools he needed to get the most out of this event. All except for one atleast. In a small duffle bag Spongebob had stowed his favorite books on nihilist philosophy, which had comforted, and perhaps inspired him, during his weeks of preparation. Spongebob had been going through tough times. Money was tight, Mr. Krabs didn't treat him well at work, and because of this he fell into a deep depression. As he read more and more into these books he noticed the pointlessness and unecessary drama around him. These ideas his brain absorbed gave a new meaning to his life; a life without meaning. Once and for all he felt free, knowing that without moral boundaries and federal laws the world truly was his oyster. He vowed to get revenge on the aquatic masses of his society, the same fish that had chained him to debt, employment, and structure. These instruments of unrelenting homicide he had concealed within his luggage were soon to help him achieve that in a matter of days. Spongebob shook these thoughts out of his head and returned to the task at hand. He was ready to leave his house and head off towards the Krusty Towers.

"It's going to be hard work getting these suitcases up to my hotel room" Spongebob thought to himself as he dialed a taxi. As he waited for the driver to arrive, Spongebob remembered the one thing he had to do before leaving home.

"I almost forgot to feed Gary!" Spongebob gasped as he headed towards the kitchen cabinet. He pulled out a box of snail food. As he stared at it, Spongebob started to sniff and tears formed in his eyes. He had only vaguely thought about it until now, but the thought about not coming back home made him recognize the implications it could have on Gary. Whether it'd be by starvation or loneliness, Gary would die without his owner. Spongebob did the most ethical thing he could do and pulled a bag of cyanide out of a cupboard. He made sure to sprinkle it lightly over Gary's food, so it encompassed all of his feeding bowl and wasn't noticeable.

"Oh Gaaaaarrryyy! Gare-bear! Time for breakfast!"

Gary slithered out of Spongebob's room and down into the kitchen. Spongebob greeted him warmly. "There's my favorite snail!" he gushed as he put Gary's bowl on the floor. "Here's your breakfast!"

Gary sniffed his bowl. Not being able to notice the odorless poison he began to chow down.

"That's a good boy!" Spongebob cheered as he struggled to choke back tears. Gary was to occupied with his food to notice his owner's distraught demeanor. "Well, Daddy's going to be gone for a while. He'll be back soon!" Spongebob said as he walked to the living room. From there he grabbed his cargo and hauled it out the door. As he rushed inside to grab his last suitcase, his taxi arrived outside and beeped. Spongebob headed into the kitchen one last time and stroked Gary.

"I love you" he cooed.

"Meow" said Gary.

Spongebob sniffled and headed out the door with his last suitcase. As he closed the front door, he took one last glimpse at Gary and blew him a kiss. He shut the door and (with much difficulty) hauled his suitcases into the trunk of the taxi. He stepped into the yellow boat.

"Where to?" Inquired the taxi driver.

"Krusty Towers please" replied Spongebob.

The taxi driver stepped on the gas peddle and they began to pull away from his house. Spongebob thought about taking one last glance of it through the rearview mirror, but decided against it. "I've had enough heartbreaks for today" he thought to himself. "Now I've got bigger fish to fry".

The taxi pulled out of Conch Street and sped towards the Krusty Towers.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Krusty Towers

Within a half hour the little yellow taxi had pulled into the Krusty Towers valet parking. As they waited in a line of cars, Spongebob couldn't help but reflect what had happened a little less than an hour ago.

" _Gary was my only friend... and I killed him!_ "

Spongebob felt devastated. His pet snail was practically the only friend in the whole world who didn't judge him. Gary, unlike the cruel and pestering people of today's society, didn't have any dreams, ambitions, or goals.

" _He was a nihilist, just like me._ " Spongebob thought to himself as he wiped a tear from his eye. Spongebob recalled all of the funnest times he had with his slimy companion; Gary's first Kraby Patty, the day Gary went with him to the beach, that one time he had Gary lick all of that Kelp Butter off his...

The cab jolted to a stop. As Spongebob stepped out of the car, he gave the taxi driver a counterfeit twenty-dollar bill he had lazily printed the night before. The taxi driver was too piss-drunk to notice. Spongebob heaved his luggage out of the trunk and dragged it into the hotel.

Spongebob hauled his luggage into the front lobby. Here the tile was smooth and reflective, shining of an investment that Mr. Krabs hadn't cheaped out on for once. Gold lining embroidered the corners and edges of the ceiling overhead. Within this gold embroidery was velvet of the finest material, topped off with a chandelier in the middle.

"Wow, looks like Mr. Krabs has really stepped up his game. Only if he could understand that material wealth doesn't matter in the end," Spongebob thought to himself.

Spongebob turned around at the tone of a familiar voice. "Well if it isn't Spongebob, using the rest of his sick days to vacation at his OWN establishment!" Squidward scolded nasally.

"Squiddy! Hey there buddy!" Spongebob cried as he ran up to his coworker and hugged him. Not that he had any feelings for Squidward; his emotions were long dead after all.

"Get. Off. Me." Squidward growled under his teeth. As he managed to pull Spongebob off of him, Mr. Krabs scuttled towards their greeting.

"Spongebob, me boy!" Mr. Krabs shouted. "I'm so glad you could make it! I reserved a special room just for you!"

"Really?" Spongebob glowed.

"Yes! You get to stay in the penthouse suite on the top floor. You'll be able to overlook the whole concert tomorrow!" Mr. Krabs replied.

"Really? Oh wow!" Spongebob cried as he jumped for (fake) joy. Despite his inner feelings of emptiness and rage, he was still able to put on a good show when his acquaintances expected it. "Thank you Mr. Krabs!"

"No problem, me boy! Just as long as you promise to work overtime next week, then we'll be even." Mr. Krabs chuckled. "Squidward, help our favorite fry cook carry his bags uptairs." He patted Spongebob on the shoulder. "Enjoy yourself, lad!" He scuttled away.

"Aye aye, Sir!" Spongebob said while saluting the crustacean. Spongebob smirked to himself. There would be no overtime next week. Only misery and misfortune.

"Alright, Spongebob," Squidward sighed. "Let's get your bags upstairs."

With great difficulty, Squidward began to haul Spongebob's deadly cargo up twenty-four flights of stairs. Out of fear of having his plan unraveled, Spongebob insisted that he should help him out. This was the first time in a while that Squidward didn't mind the sponge's company.

At the fourth floor, they stopped to catch their breath.

"Spongebob, why did you have to make your luggage so heavy?" Squidward asked, annoyed.

Spongebob began to giggle wildly. "You'll see", he said through a pair of grinning teeth.

"Whatever", Squidward said rolling his eyes. He didn't give it a second thought. In the past Spongebob had surprised him multiple times, and none of them never amused him.

Spongebob continued to grin as they hauled his lethal luggage upstairs. He thought about the guilt Squidward would feel, after knowing that he had helped him with his master plan. The image of an overdosed Squidward crossed his mind, rotting away in a motel room with heroin needles in his arm. He began giggling madly.

"Spongebob, stop laughing and help me get these bags upstairs!" Squidward scolded.

"My pleasure, Squidward!" Spongebob giggled. The two sea creatures carried the bags up the rest of the stairway.

The penthouse suite was marvelous. It had lofty sofas, a master bedroom, and best of all, a large window that overlooked where the Sea-Slam Music Festival would soon take place.

"Why, **_IT'S PERFECT_ _!_** " Spongebob said, maybe a little too maniacally.

"Umm... okay." Said Squidward, slightly confused. "Well, I'll see you around, Spongebob."

There was no reply. Spongebob remained still, staring out the large window.

"Well... um.. bye.." Squidward muttered as he shut the door behind him. " _Okay, now that was fucking weird._ " he thought to himself. Squidward returned to the front desk, where he'd help check in customers for the rest of the evening.

Spongebob continued to gaze out the window, watching the locals set up tents and booths in preparation of tomorrow's festivities. " _This is it_." he thought to himself. In just over twenty-four hours, his name would become a national headline. As for now, he just had to get ready.

"I'm ready." said Spongebob. "I'm fucking ready."

Stay tuned for Chapter 3, coming soon!


	3. Chapter 3

Ch.3: The Final Countdown

As the sun set and nightfall rose over the Bikini Bottom, Squidward went home for some well-needed rest. He spent the rest of the evening doing his two favorite things, clarinet practice and painting. By the time it was 11:00, Squidward called it a night.

" _What a day_." Squidward thought to himself as he crawled into bed. Working at the Krusty Towers was a different experience after all. He was no longer a cashier at a humble restaurant, instead he was now a receptionist at a five-star hotel. The pay was better, but the job was much more demanding, requiring him to be at his top performance.

As Squidward closed his eyes, he waited for his mind to subside so he could drift off to sleep. However, one particular thought tickled the back of his mind. It was Spongebob's laughter.

" _Dammit, Squidward_!" he thought to himself. " _Remember what your therapist said. If Spongebob's not in your presence, there's no reason for him to bother you!_ ".

Typically this statement calmed him. Spongebob wasn't there, so why worry? In more severe cases, a few shots of whiskey subdued his anxiety. However this time it was different. He wasn't thinking of the laughter Spongebob would make while blowing bubbles, or when he was hanging with Patrick. It was that same creepy laughter that he had made when Squidward carried his luggage upstairs.

" _What exactly was he laughing about?_ " Squidward thought to himself. Maybe it was a party trick Spongebob had in mind, or maybe he was reminded again of how much Squidward's nose looked like a dick. Either way, it made him uncomfortable. Not only that, the way the sponge had acted in his hotel room was even more unsettling.

Too confused by the days events, Squidward decided to let it go and tried to sleep. " _Who knows, maybe Spongebob's been experimenting with drugs or something_." Squidward said to himself as he turned over. Content with his resolution, Squidward was about to fall asleep until...

"SQUIDWARD! SQUIIIDWAAARD!" Patrick hollored as he pounded on the front door.

"What the FUCK!" shouted Squidward, infuriated. He jumped out of bed and stomped towards the front door. He ripped the door open.

"WHAT IN NEPTUNE'S NAME DO YOU WANT?" Squidward yelled at the pink starfish.

"Have you seen Spongebob?" Patrick asked in a tearful, meek voice.

"NO I HAVEN'T!" Squidward shouted. He slammed the door shut and walked back into his house. However, the oddness of what Patrick had asked suddenly settled in. He opened the door again, and saw that Patrick still stood there, grimly.

"Wait, hasn't Spongebob told you where he is?" asked Squidward, rather brashly.

"Nope!" Patrick said, rubbing tears from his eyes. "I used the key he keeps under his doormat to see if he was home... and... and..." Patrick began to sob.

The episode that was taking place outside of his house at midnight was all too confusing for Squidward. Wouldn't Spongebob have told Patrick where he was going? After all, they still were best friends. He tried to get the crying starfish under control.

"Well quit your whining and spit it out, I want to go to bed!" growled Squidward.

"HIS SNAIL, Squidward!" Patrick cried. "Gary is DEAD!"

This baffled Squidward at first. Considering Patrick's stupidity, he took it with a grain of sea salt. "You're sure he wasn't just sleeping this time?" he asked.

"Come see for yourself!" Patrick wailed as he continued to cry. Typically Squidward wouldn't give a rat's ass about the welfare of Spongebob's pet snail, however the events that had ensued that day made it all too peculiar for him.

"You're crab-shitting me! Let me see." said Squidward. Together he and Patrick walked over to Spongebob's house.

As they entered the kitchen, Squidward flipped the light switch, only to see that Patrick's convictions were true. He found Gary's lifeless body bobbing against the ceiling, as dead as a goldfish in a chinese pet store. Vomit was smeared all across the kitchen floor. Too shocked to come up with a cynical remark, Squidward gasped for words.

"Oh shit." he muttered.

"What are we going to do!" whined Patrick, looking away with his hands covering his eyes.

Squidward felt uneasy, and did his best to preserve his unwelcoming demeanor. "I'll tell Spongebob tomorrow. By the way, if you want to know what your idiotic friend is up to, he's at the Krusty Towers."

Both of them called it a night and decided to head their separate ways. Once Squidward was back in his bed, he pulled the covers up to his nose, gazing out his bedroom window. He got no sleep that night.

As for Spongebob however, he couldn't have gotten a better night's rest. Probably because of the large amounts of kelp-ale that had made him pass out. He layed spread-eagle on the hotel room floor, in a pool of his own vomit. Disgusted by the spew that was all over him, he jumped into the shower.

Clean and refreshed (except for the fact he had a splitting headache), Spongebob wrapped himself in a towel and walked over to the penthouse window. He couldn't believe his eyes! A city of tents stretched out far and wide, and some fish were already filing into the stage area, eager to claim their front-row spots. It hadn't even reached noon, and there was already a crowd of fish that rivaled the population of the Bikini Bottom itself.

"This. Is so. AMAZING!" Spongebob exclaimed through gritted teeth. He could hardly contain his excitement. The showdown that he planned to commence that night would be big for sure. With his stomach empty from last night's barfing, he made his way down to the Krusty Towers restaurant for breakfast. As we walked through the lobby, he saw an exhausted Squidward, doing his best to keep the hotel's check-in line moving.

"Hey Squiddy!" Spongebob exclaimed. Squidward glanced at him for only a brief second, and quickly turned back to the register uncomfortably.

" _He knows I'm up to something!_ " Spongebob thought to himself. " _That FUCKING WHORE!_ "

The day had passed rather slowly for Spongebob, but soon enough it was only a matter of hours before his show would begin. He sat on the edge of his hotel bed, polishing the stock of an AR-15. "My time to strike is coming fast" he thought to himself. He couldn't wait to see how his plan would commence that night.

The only person in the Krusty Towers that was as anxious as Spongebob was Squidward. " _I have to find out what's in those suitcases!_ " he thought to himself. As evening began over the horizon, he went to Spongebob's penthouse suite and knocked on the door.

" _Barnacles, someone's coming!_ " Spongebob thought to himself. In a fit of paranoia, he grabbed his rifle and hid in the closet.

Using the Krusty Tower's hotel key, Squidward opened the door and peeked inside. There was no one there. "R-room service?" He stuttered. There was no reply.

Squidward made his way over to the king sized bed, where lay the numerous suitcases and duffle bags he had helped Spongebob carry the day before. Unzipping the luggage, what he had found froze him with shock. In one bag was over a dozen magazines, presumably for an assault rifle. In another bag lay a light machine gun, lying on top of a bed of ammo belts.

"Holy. Fucking. SHIT!" Exclaimed Squidward, quickly covering mouth afterwards.

"You weren't supposed to see that, Squidward". A voice said behind him.

Squidward turned around, and his melon head split open as he was struck with the butt of Spongebob's rifle. Spongebob dragged his unconscious body into the bathtub. "Poor Squiddy." Spongebob said to himself. "Maybe he won't have to live with any guilt after all."

Spongebob walked back to his bed and unloaded the rest of his equipment. Outside, he could hear the booming microphone of the announcer. "HELLO EVERYONE, WELCOME TO THE BIKINI BOTTOM'S THIRD ANNUAL SEA-SLAM MUSIC FESTIVAL!"

Thunderous cheers and applause rallied outside. "This is it." Spongebob said to himself. "My big moment is about to begin."

Soon enough, the announcements ended and the music began. Spongebob picked up his AR-15 and pressed its barrel against the glass window. Aiming towards the crowd, he took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.

TO BE CONTINUED


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4: The Showdown

The first few shots rang through the air as the crowd cheered for "Boys Who Cry", a hit band that had performed in the past. The crowds passed the noise off as nothing more than firecrackers, until a 9mm round tore through the head of the lead singer. Blood and brain matter splattered all over the horrified faces of the front row, casuing them to scream. Before the audience behind them had time to process what was going on, Spongebob's bullet onslaught had already claimed the lives of many more fish.

A terrified show manager ran up on stage. "EVERYBODY FUCKING RUN!" he shouted, before a stray bullet ripped through his head shortly afterwards. Fish did their best to escape, however couldn't because of the traffic of the crowd. Meanwhile the torrent of bullets continued to flood the area. Each time a fish had perished, their catatonic corpse would drift up to the surface of the waters.

Sandy Cheeks gaped in fear at the flickering star emitting from Spongebob's window. "HE'S FIRING FROM ABOVE!" she shouted. Before she could get away, however, her helmet was shattered by a round. Her skull succumbed to the pressure of the waters, and like a watermelon being ran over by a pickup truck her head burst into a million bloody fragments.

Meanwhile, Larry the Lobster was doing his best to ensure that everyone made it to safety. It was hard to see however, due to the fact that the sea floor was clouded with blood. "Everybody follow me!" he shouted, herding a group of frightened spectators. Unwittingly though, he led them right towards the gunfire. "OH SHIT!" he shouted, realizing his mistake. Before they could turn around however, he and the escapees were mowed down.

Spongebob marveled at the scene he had created. Below him, a massive red cloud billowed across the concert grounds. Dozens of lifeless creatures drifted out from the fog, and floated into the sky above. "It's like... the rapture!" Spongebob said, struggling to hold back tears of joy.

His gaze was broken however by the wailing of several police sirens. Spongebob could make out the silouettes of them through the crimson shroud.

"SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS." an officer boomed through a megaphone. "WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED. COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP."

Spongebob was surprised that they knew he was the perpretrator. Maybe because they knew he was in the penthouse suite? Either way, he didn't give a fuck.

"YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!" Shouted Spongebob.

"IS THAT SO?" Boomed the amplified officer. "WELL MAYBE YOUR FRIEND CAN CHANGE YOUR MIND."

Just then, Patrick stepped out of one of the cruisers. "HEY BUDDY! REMEMBER ME? IT'S YOUR BUDDY PATRICK! YOU DON'T HAVE TO0 DO THIS, SO JUST STOP KILLING PEOPLE OKAY?". Patrick waved his arms like a fool.

Spongebob stepped away from the window and out of sight. Thinking they had changed his mind, the police began high fiving one another. Meanwhile, Spongebob opened the large suitcase he had on his bed and pulled out the light machine gun. He returned to the window a few seconds later.

"See you in hell, Pat." Spongebob sniffled. He squeezed the trigger and rained hell on the police officers.

"DOOOOOOHHHHH!" Patrick yelled while being ripped apart at a hundred rounds per minute. Soon enough, the police's forces were weakened and Spongebob opened fire on any bystander he could find.

Meanwhile, Squidward became conscious. Slipping on a pool of his own vomit and blood, Squidward managed to pull himself out of the bathtub that Spongebob had put him in.

With the sound being drowned out by heavy gunfire, Spongebob took no notice as Squidward grabbed a lamp and slumped up behind him. Raising the steel end of it in the air, he shouted.

"DIE, SPONGEBOB SQUAREWHORE!" Squidward yelled as he brought it down onto to Spongebob's spongy head. Before he could react, his body was torn into spongy shreds as Squidward gouged him apart with the lamp. The gunfire had ceased, and the menace was gone. Relieved, Squidward picked up Spongebob's light machine gun and was going to make sure he was dead for good.

Just then, a group of SWAT team members burst through the door. "DROP THE WEAPON AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP, CHUMSCUM!", yelled one of the officers. Dazed and confused from the concussion, Squidward didn't register their orders. Instead, he turned around to face them with gun in hand.

The officers immediately unloaded their clips into him. Being barraged by the onslaught, Squidward's body was obliterated into a bloody collage. His cock and nose splattered against the wall, leaving the officers confused as to which one was which. A mural of blood laid splattered across the penthouse window and walls.

By the time a full twenty four hours had passed, the story was fully pieced together and reached national headlines. It was discovered that Squidward had the gun in hand to kill spongebob with, however a conspiracy that Squidward was in on the shooting gained a large following. Therefore, no memorial to Squidward was ever erected, due the controversy of the whole issue. Not long after being informed of the deaths of his two best employees, Mr. Krabs hung himself in the Krusty Krab meat locker.

It's reasonable to say that the Bikini Bottom has never been the same since the incident. Its residents have since refrained from being to friendly to one another, and whenever their town is mentioned by outsiders, a deep feeling of shame is brought upon them.

As for Spongebob, however, he had gotten his wish. Once and for all, the townspeople finally felt the way he had. And while he died before he could witness the aftermath, he left this world knowing that his actions would forever stain the hearts and minds of the Bikini Bottom.

The End

Thank you everyone who read this story all the way through! I'm glad to have finally finished it. 


End file.
